Spoiler! :
The most important – and most difficult – lesson I’ve learned about how to critique another person’s writing is to be optimistic. Now, we’re all familiar with the conventional definition of optimism. And if we’re not, well, here it is:
Optimism: noun hopefulness and confidence about the future or the successful outcome of something.
When talking about giving critique, being optimistic means two things:
1. The writer is in control of their work.
This means beginning every story, poem, essay, etc you read with the assumption that the writer has done everything on purpose. When we read published writing, we make this assumption automatically. We understand the writer has approached their work with intent and has made choices they think will make their story the best possible story they can write. Being optimistic means you give any practicing writer the same respect you would give a published work.
If this sounds familiar, you’re probably right! It’s common advice not to impose your own ideas/preferences/aesthetic on another writer. Just because you wouldn’t write a character or a scene or line a certain way doesn’t mean another writer can’t do so successfully. Instead of telling a writer the way you think they should write their story/poem/essay/etc (which is often actually how you would write the story/poem/essay/etc) take a minute to try and understand what that writer is trying to do.
When you assume a writer is being purposeful, you allow yourself to be more objective. You are not the author. Your job as a reviewer or critique partner isn’t to make the piece into something you would write. It’s to help the author make their work the very best version of what they’re trying to write. Other writers are allowed to make decisions you would not make. That’s the beauty of art!
Of course, this doesn’t mean that you have to assume every error or typo or poor story decision is right and shouldn’t be pointed out. There are often objective issues with writing, because we’re all learning. You’re allowed to make comments and ask questions about things that aren’t working. However, being optimistic means hesitating to frame these as criticisms. Instead it means reporting your observations:
Edited because @Rosendorn provided a really fantastic example.
"This story felt really distant to me, which is probably because you use a lot of sentence structure x. Sentence structure y could make me as the reader feel a lot closer to what's happening in the story."
You're not telling the writer their sentences suck, but that their sentence structure is likely the culprit for what is keeping you distant in their story. If they didn't mean to keep the reader distant, you've provided a possible fix!
But being optimistic also means remembering that other writers can, and do effectively, make decisions that you wouldn't make in a story. There can be well written, effective stories that just aren't your cup of tea, as well. I personally love writing and reading stories where I'm brought really close to the story or the characters. I love getting inside people's heads. But not every story can or should be told that way. So as an optimistic reviewer, you might also leave your critique open to the possibility that this distance was intentional:
"If you're trying to keep the reader distant, then I would ask what you're trying to gain in the story from that distance because I didn't feel the pay-off for it. Maybe there's a way to make it feel more purposeful by the end of the story? One answer might be to include a moment or two of direct address (where the character or narrator speaks directly to the audience) to make that distance more effective."
Of course, this kind of feedback can get more specific in the context of an actual story, where you can better tell if being kept out of a character's head is helping to move the story forward. The more you read and review and write, the easier it is to gain a sense for whether an author is being intentional or not. Sometimes you can just tell someone didn't do something on purpose!
When you remain optimistic, you’re remembering that the author set out to write the story, poem, etc in the best way they thought to write it. And that's what you're reading. So you're letting yourself believe that this writer is capable of writing something better. Being optimistic means you don’t go in assuming the writing will be bad, but that you can help this writer craft their piece into something really great.
2. This is only a draft.
One of the common trends among new (and even seasoned) reviewers is to hone in on grammar issues (often called nit-picks, or line-edits) to fill out a review. There’s nothing inherently wrong with these kinds of reviews, but it’s not the most effective form of critique when you understand that what you’re reading is only a draft.
No one expects a first, second, or even third draft to be perfect. Even finished books go to print with errors. Work gets posted to YWS with the express intent of receiving critique, so we know going in to reading a piece that it will have errors. Things like spelling and grammar are minor issues compared to an essay without a strong thesis or a poem with conflicting imagery. Avoiding focusing on nit-picks requires the assumption that a piece will change substantially between first and second (or even second and third, etc) drafts. It’s pointless to correct the grammar in a sentence that might not even survive the next draft. These are final draft concerns, and writers are rarely seeking to point final draft work on YWS.
Of course, if spelling and grammar errors are significant and distracting it’s always appropriate to mention it. You can tell a writer to look at their punctuation (and link a helpful guide from the Knowledge Base! There are many!) without picking out and correcting every single error in a piece. Instead, understand that any story will have small nit-pick errors and have faith that the writer can learn to catch them on their own.
This allows you to focus on the content of the piece and help iron out the major story-changing (or poem-changing, or essay-changing) issues in this draft, which will ultimately be that much more helpful to the writer (and you, as reviewing is one of the best ways to build your own skills as a writer!).
It takes time to hone this perspective on reviewing. Especially when you encounter a piece that needs more than the average amount of work to make it better. But aiming for optimism and trusting the writer to know what they’re doing (even if you’re absolutely positive they don’t) not only makes you a more supportive artist, but is ultimately better for both the writer you’re critiquing and for you!
What do you think? Does intent matter? Are you aware of the mindset with which you approach a piece you're going to review?
Gender:
Points: 370
Reviews: 541